


Star Spangled Man

by AustinB



Series: Stucky Wonderland [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 1940s, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Bottom Bucky, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky and Steve meet in Europe after Steve becomes Captain America, Casual Sex, Except not really?, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, M/M, Meet-Cute, One Night Stands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Smut, Srsly that's all it is, Top Steve, Top Steve Rogers, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-16 22:29:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7287256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AustinB/pseuds/AustinB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky’s standing there alone, smoking a cigarette when he sees that dancing monkey walk by.</p><p>Captain America’s show really was terrible; childish. The only good thing about it was the girls, and how great the guy’s ass looked in those blue tights. </p><p>But now he’s changed out of that ridiculous red white and blue suit and into his army greens. With his hands in his pockets, eyes trained straight down at his feet, he looks rather lonely, and indescribably sad.</p><p>So Bucky calls out, “Hey, Captain America.”</p><p> </p><p>(AU: They didn't know each other before the war, Bucky doesn't get captured and meets Steve in Europe during the Captain America USO tour.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Star Spangled Man

**Author's Note:**

> this is??? the filthiest thing I've ever written??  
> [x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DxRKwKJI_uI)

The radio guys are playing a jumping jazz number over the speakers at base. It drifts quietly over the sound of distant conversations to Bucky, who's standing outside of the tent he shares with Dugan and Falsworth. The guys are still down at the rec tent playing cards, probably will be for some time. They’ve been given a few days rest after the shit show they just survived at Azzano. 

So Bucky’s standing there alone in the mild autumn night, smoking a cigarette when he sees that dancing monkey walk by.

 _Captain America’s_ show really was terrible; childish. The only good thing about it was the girls, and how great the guy’s ass looked in those blue tights. If Bucky couldn’t tell how embarrassed the guy was when he left the stage that afternoon, he can tell now.

He’s changed out of that ridiculous red white and blue suit and into his army greens, crisp and precise, hands in his pockets, eyes trained straight down at his feet. He looks rather lonely, and indescribably sad.

So Bucky calls out, “Hey Captain America, great show.”

He stops walking and looks up in surprise, then shakes his head with a rueful smile. “Don’t patronize me.”

“No, I mean it. The way you knocked out Hitler?” he gives an impressed whistle and the guy laughs.

“Yeah, yeah.” He comes over and reaches for Bucky’s cigarette. Bucky hands it over.

“Steve Rogers,” he says.

“Bucky Barnes.”

They stand there, passing a cigarette back and forth for a few quiet minutes

“Good to meetcha. Thanks for the smoke.” He makes to leave with a small smile that’s slightly more sincere than his last attempt.

“Where you headed?” Bucky asks, because up close the guy’s eyes are luminously blue with a little bit of green and hell no, he’s not about to let him just walk away.

“They gave me and Hitler an overflow tent up here,” he says, gesturing up the dirt lane between rows of tents.

“I’ll walk with you,” Bucky says, and starts walking without giving Steve a chance to reply.

“Oh, ok,” he says, surprised. Then he smiles, a real smile. It makes Bucky smile too.

“This is our first show overseas. I tried joining up before, for _real,_ but I was too sick then.” He trails off, like he wants to say more but can’t.

“Well, you’re better now, huh? Look at you,” Bucky says, and looks. The guy’s a tank; broad shoulders, huge arms. Bucky knows he’d be real sturdy if he could climb on top of him and—

“Yeah,” Steve says, a little sadly. There’s a pinch between his brows and a little downturn to his lips that Bucky doesn’t like. He decides he wants to wipe that sad look off his beautiful face. “Well here I am,” Steve says, gesturing to a big double-wide tent.

“Overflow tents?” Bucky scoffs. “This is an officer’s tent you twat.” He unzips the flap from the bottom up and steps inside. Steve follows, standing awkwardly by the door while Bucky looks around. There’s way more room to move, the ceiling is higher and doesn’t feel as cramped as the little tent Bucky shares with two other soldiers.

“Hey how do I sign up? I’d let you punch me every night for digs like this.”

“It’s not always like this,” Steve says, “There were just extra tents with all the…”

_With all the men dying._

“Where’s Hitler tonight?” Bucky asks quickly.

Steve shrugs, “Probably shacking up with one of the girls in the barracks.”

“And why aren’t you doing the same?”

Steve shakes his head and looks at his shoes. “I’m their little brother.”

“You can’t tell me none of them want some of…” he waves his hand over Steve’s frame and Steve chuckles, a hand going to the back of his neck as a pink blush blooms over his cheeks.

“There was a little…interest, in the beginning. But nothing ever happened. We have to spend a lot of time together, I didn’t want it to be uncomfortable.”

He looks up with a shy smile and Bucky decides to go for it. He might get hit in the teeth, but if he doesn’t at least give it a shot he’ll be kicking himself until the end of time. Which, for a soldier, could be any day. So he goes back over to the door flap and pulls the zipper back down to the ground, closing them in.

He’s crouched at Steve’s feet and looks up at him through his lashes, “A bit drafty, don’t you think?” he says in a low voice, with a slow, crooked smile that he hopes communicates his intentions. When he stands up, they’re nearly toe to toe, and Steve’s eyes widen.

“Um, uh. Yeah.”

Good enough.

Bucky moves to the cot and sits. It’s bigger than regulation cots, at least a single-bed size. Steve follows, as he’d hoped, and sits a respectable distance away. But Bucky scoots over so their thighs are pressed together. He holds his breath for a minute, but Steve doesn’t move away, just peeks at him from the corner of his eye. So Bucky puts one hand on Steve’s thigh and the other on his face, turning it toward him. Steve is holding his breath too, eyes trained to Bucky’s lips and _halle-fuckin-lujah_  Bucky leans in to kiss him.

Steve opens his mouth into the kiss immediately and suddenly Bucky has never wanted anything as much as he wants all of Steve’s clothes gone _now_.

“Lay down,” Bucky demands. He stands up to let Steve lay back, then climbs on top of him, straddling his hips and leaning down to kiss him again. He unbuttons Steve’s shirt, kissing down his neck and chest with each new inch of skin he exposes. He unzips his pants, but leaves them on, and it’s enough for him to get his hand inside and feel him. Steve's grip on Bucky's hips tightens involuntarily and he chokes off a groan; Bucky likes the sound.

He _is_ sturdy, all hard muscle and sharp edges and Bucky scoots down so he can get his mouth on his cock.

“Ah!” Steve nearly shouts and Bucky closes his eyes with a sigh. It’s been a long time; there aren’t many opportunities, in such close quarters there are always eyes and ears and the risk of getting caught is too high. So it’s with some amount of reverence that he flicks his tongue over the head of Steve’s cock and swallows down the length of him.

He doesn't want to put him down for the count too soon, so after a minute, he pulls off and crawls back up Steve’s body, trailing his lips and tongue over the contours of his abs and pecs, flicking his tongue over a nipple and getting a ragged sigh in return.

“Tell me what you want, Captain,” Bucky growls and nips his earlobe.

“Ah,” Steve sighs, “I’m not actually a Captain.”

Bucky leans back to get a look at his face. He looks wrecked already, his color’s high and his pupils blown. His golden hair, carefully parted only minutes ago is now all a mess, falling over his forehead.

“I outrank you, don’t I?” Bucky asks.

“Yes sir,” Steve breathes automatically.

_Oh good god._

“How good are you at taking orders, soldier?”

“Very good, sir," Steve says coyly, and sinks his teeth into his plump lower lip. Bucky nearly loses his train of thought, but pulls his focus.

“Well, then,” Bucky says, leaning down to scrape his teeth along Steve’s ridiculous jawline, “I want you to fuck me so hard I’ll feel you for days.”

Steve groans, and wraps one hand around the back of Bucky’s neck to pull him into a kiss. He swipes his tongue into Bucky’s mouth while his other hand untucks his shirt. He sits up, and with both hands on Bucky’s ass, stands, turns them around and lays Bucky down on his back on the cot.

Steve sits back on his haunches so he can unbutton Bucky’s shirt. He strips that off his arms then unbuttons his pants and yanks them down. He has to untie his boots to get his pants all the way off and he huffs impatiently at the laces. Bucky laughs at his eagerness and Steve looks up at him, surprised, but then laughs with a rueful, self-deprecating tilt and Bucky wants to, he wants... He wants.

Steve’s shirt is unbuttoned but still on, so Bucky sits up and strips it off him as well. Steve leans over him, pushing him back down onto his back, and puts one finger into Bucky’s mouth. Bucky takes it, swirling his tongue around it and Steve pulls it back out, then reaches down between them. Bucky lets his legs fall open wider and Steve presses the pad of his wet finger to Bucky’s hole. Bucky’s tips his head back and hisses, “ _Yes_.”

* * *

Steve can’t believe his good luck. And after one of the most discouraging days of his life, too. Standing in front of that crowd of soldiers, men he wanted to fight with, to die for, he felt so foolish, so useless.

But, now. He has a finger inside the most beautiful man he’s ever laid eyes on, and he certainly can’t be sorry for that.

He doesn’t carry lube around with him, he’s not that optimistic, and spit isn’t doing it. He knows he can come at least three times in a night, probably more with such a gorgeous guy underneath him instead of just his own hand keeping him company. So with one finger still inside of Bucky, he jerks himself off with his other hand.

Bucky looks up to see why his finger has stopped and groans. As wired as he is from this very sudden unexpected turn of events, he comes fairly quickly, over Bucky’s ass and his own hand that’s still inside of the brunette soldier. He wants to stroke himself through his orgasm, but he lets go, leaves the tension rolling in the base of his spine. Steve opens his eyes to find Bucky watching him, open-mouthed, a flush high on his cheekbones and his pupils blown black.

“Fucking Christ,” Bucky mutters as Steve uses his come as slick to finger him open.

The way he tips his head back, the graceful column of his throat, the noises he makes, Steve is about to combust, about to fall in love.

“Steve, Stevie,” Bucky pants, “fuck me, now, please.”

As he leans down to kiss him, Steve slips in a third finger and Bucky moans. “Yes, sir,” he whispers against Bucky’s lips, getting a soft chuff of laughter.

He slides his fingers out slowly and pulls at Bucky’s leg. Bucky gets the hint and turns over onto his hands and knees. Steve swipes up some of his come that’s still wet and sticky on Bucky’s thighs to slick himself and he pushes slowly inside. Bucky moans and groans and pants and curses. When he’s seated inside of him, Steve stills. He leans over Bucky’s back, turning Bucky’s face to kiss him deeply and starts to roll his hips slightly. He pulls out an inch and snaps his hips back in. He pulls out more with each thrust until he’s pounding hard into Bucky.

He can feel sweat beading on the back of his neck, the heat of the late summer air and their body heat in the tent like a greenhouse.

Bucky’s moaning too loudly, and as much as Steve's enjoying the sound of his voice, someone else is going to hear. So Steve reaches forward and puts his hand over Bucky's mouth. It pulls his head back slightly and curves his back into a pretty bow. Steve runs his other hand down over Bucky’s spine as he fucks into him. When he wants more leverage, he lets go of Bucky’s mouth and takes his hips in both hands, pulling him backward to meet his thrusts.

Bucky leans his face onto the cot to muffle his moans and reaches down to jerk himself off.

Steve can feel the tension gathering low in his belly and he clenches his teeth against it; he wants this to last, all night, all day tomorrow, all week. He never wants it to end. He changes up the angle and Bucky cries out again, completely unconcerned about outside ears in his ecstasy. Steve hits that spot again, and again, until Bucky keens and bows his back and comes onto Steve’s cot. Steve lets the tension go, thrusts four more times and comes inside of Bucky, curling over him to lick the sweat off the back of his neck and scrape his teeth along his shoulder.

He rolls his hips through it, then stills, panting into Bucky's hair. Bucky collapses down onto the cot and Steve rolls them onto their sides, still inside of him. He presses kisses to his neck and shoulder, hand sliding up his thigh, hip, ribs, and back down. He wants to remember every detail; every curve and contour, every second of this island of paradise in the middle of war.

Eventually, Bucky rolls away and Steve slips out of him with a groan. Bucky reaches down for his discarded shirt and wipes the come from his abdomen and thighs, then fishes a cigarette out of his pants. He gestures to Steve.

“Want one?”

Steve shakes his head.

Bucky lights the smoke, then lays down on his back next to Steve, who puts his hand on Bucky’s skin again, anywhere he can. As soon as Bucky takes his first drag, Steve reaches for the cigarette. Bucky hands it over with a smirk, blowing smoke up toward the ceiling. He lifts his arm so Steve can tuck into him and lay his head on Bucky’s shoulder. Steve wraps his arm tightly around him, just in case he gets any dumb ideas about leaving.

He’ll be gone long before morning if he's smart, but right now he’s here.

When the cigarette is gone, Bucky reaches down and stubs it out in the dirt, then wraps himself around Steve.

“You’re a good time, Captain.”

“I’m not really a—“

“Yes, you are," Bucky says with certainty, "You’re my Captain.”

Steve presses his face into Bucky’s neck to hide his stupid grin, and the tears gathering in his eyes.

“You sound like a New Yorker," Bucky says, "Not up on stage, you sound like an asshole, but when you’re fucking you sound like a New Yorker."

“Brooklyn.”

“No shit? Me too. Hey, when this’s all over, look me up. James Barnes. My mom, Winifred, lives in Park Slope, she’d be beside herself if you dropped in.”

“I will,” Steve promises.

* * *

And he does, at the end of 1945, after a helluva year, and finds Bucky sitting there in his mom’s living room, left shirtsleeve pinned up, looking absolutely floored to see Steve awkwardly standing at the edge of the room while Winifred and Rebecca titter and flutter about, "Captain America! In my living room! Would you like some tea? Becky get the kettle on. Bucky you didn't tell me you met _Captain America!"_

After tea, when the ladies are in the kitchen and Bucky goes out behind the apartment to smoke, Steve puts his hand on his face and kisses him. He shouldn’t, it’s too dangerous with all the windows back here, but he does anyway. Their night together the year before might have been nothing more than wartime desperation, but Steve doesn’t care. He waited so long and to have Bucky in front of him again, he can’t resist. 

Bucky clutches at Steve’s uniform with his one hand, pulling them together from chest to knee, kissing him hastily.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” he breathes.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Every day, Bucky." Sometimes, during the worst of it, trudging through frozen mud, looking down into the pit of human despair, that one night was all that kept him going. But he can't say all that, not yet.

Bucky lets go of a heavy breath, eyes pinched shut tight and brows pulled together. Steve leans in to kiss him again and Bucky moans into his mouth.

“You’re staying for dinner, right?” Bucky says when Steve pulls back, finally. The anguish in his eyes has passed, and they’re bright now with delight.

“Yeah,” Steve says. Let them try to kick him out. “I’m staying.”

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaaaaaaand a happy ending because otherwise whats the point


End file.
